


Washed down the river to the sea

by semicolonsandsimiles



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mythology, Celtic Mythology & Folklore, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Scottish Folklore & Mythology, Shapeshifting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:14:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24010387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/semicolonsandsimiles/pseuds/semicolonsandsimiles
Summary: Somewhere in the Shetland Islands, Ronan and Adam still find each other even though they're different types of supernatural creatures.
Relationships: Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Comments: 12
Kudos: 31
Collections: TRC Spring Fling





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ilirea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ilirea/gifts).



> This is a Spring Fling gift for Ilirea, who requested a Pynch supernatural story. I've taken liberties with some mythology from Shetland, hope you like it! Pop down to the end notes for a little bit of background on the mythological creatures in the story.
> 
> I'm posting this in two chapters because I won't quite have the whole thing ready by the deadline. You can expect chapter 2 by the end of the week!

The long shadows growing from the stones scattered across the beach told Ronan it was time to be heading home. He gathered his catch into his fishing basket and stepped down the low sloped side of the stone into the shallow water.

As he headed for the rift in the seaside cliffs where a gurgling stream rushed down to join the ocean, Ronan felt something out of place. The boulders grew denser as he approached the cliffs; this close, there were too many individual stones to recognize every one. But Ronan was here almost daily, and he could tell something was out of place even if he didn’t know exactly what it was.

He stood still and listened. There it was, barely audible under the sounds of the stream and the ocean; sharp, raspy breathing. Someone in pain. Ronan swiveled his ears to better pinpoint the location of the breather. Close to the stream, hidden among a cluster of rocks. As he approached, he began to notice the unfamiliar smell too. He noticed the sweet scent of horse first, but along with that came the smell of freshwater and damp moss. Maybe that part was from the stream, but Ronan didn’t think so. He knew the smell of this stream.

A fearful bray confirmed the equestrian nature of the beach’s mysterious visitor. “Hey,” Ronan said, as softly as he could. It wasn’t all that soft, since he couldn’t help his human speech coming out in a growl. “I’m a friend.”

He got a derisive snort in response. “No one’s my friend.” Another raspy breath. “Ah, shit. I’m --”

“I know what you are,” Ronan said, trying to hide his amusement. “I can smell you.” He stepped around a tall boulder and finally came into view of the being next to the stream. It wasn’t a horse, of course, but most humans would’ve assumed the nuggle was a Shetland pony and not given it a second thought. A bedraggled, wounded pony; ribs showing, dark blue-gray hair still damp and matted from the stream, deep scrapes and bites marking its body. Ronan noticed the left ear particularly. Something had shredded the ear so thoroughly that it drooped instead of standing upright, and blood was trickling from the inside.

Despite its obvious pain, the nuggle attempted to lurch to its feet when it saw Ronan. It took a couple attempts, but it finally stood on shaky legs. “Thought you smelled like werewolf,” it said in a nasally voice, eyes darting fearfully around. “But you don’t look quite right. Did you get stuck halfway?”

Ronan was impressed that the nuggle was heckling him despite his obvious fear. “You must be from pretty far inland,” he guessed, “if you’ve never even heard of wulvers.”

The nuggle’s legs had almost stopped shaking. “I’ve heard of wulvers. Just thought you were a myth.”

Ronan snorted. “You’re a myth. A sorry-looking one. I’m Ronan, by the way.”

“Adam,” the nuggle replied, very quiet, as if he didn’t want anyone to hear. “I am from inland, but my-- I-- there was an accident.” He inclined his head towards the side with the ruined ear. “I’m looking for somewhere else to live.”

The ‘accident’ definitely wasn’t, but Ronan left that alone. He was well-acquainted with the look of a person who would bolt if pushed any further. Instead, he asked, “Do you need shelter for the night? My cave’s just up that way --” he gestured -- “and it’s close to the stream, if that matters to you.”

The nuggle pawed gently at the ground with one front hoof. “I don’t have any way to pay you.”

“We’re  _ mythological creatures _ , since when do we pay for anything? Gather some firewood if you want to make yourself useful, I guess.” Ronan headed in the direction of his cave, hoping Adam’s sense of self-preservation would win out over his pride.

The soft taps of hooves on the rocks behind him suggested that Adam had decided to follow. He walked like someone who habitually tried to avoid being noticed, which seemed at odds with nuggles’ reputation as mischievous water sprites. Ronan didn’t comment and didn’t look back; he didn’t want to spook Adam away.

Ronan set his basket of fish down at the entrance of the cave, which reminded him that he’d intended to take some of them to town. He turned slowly and waited until Adam approached the cave entrance before he spoke. “I’m going to take most of these fish into town. Also going to pick up something for those gashes. Don’t complain about paying, it’s so I don’t have to smell the blood.”

Adam rolled his eyes. “Right. Where do I gather firewood?”

Ronan gestured along the stream. “There’s driftwood along the banks, usually, but it doesn’t have to be tonight.” He jerked his head at the wood piled at the other edge of the cave.

Adam stomped and shook his head. “I’ll start the fire while you’re gone, then.”

“You’ll--” Ronan began disbelievingly, before his brain caught up. “Right, shapeshifter. Seems like extreme measures just for a fire though.”

“It’s nothing. Turn around.”

Ronan turned. A minute later, he heard “um;” a deeper, more gravelly voice than before, but somehow still recognizably Adam’s. “Do you have some trousers I could borrow?” The voice asked.

“Shelf on the back wall, take whatever.” Ronan heard the soft, rustling sounds of trousers being retrieved and put on.

“Okay,” Adam said.

When Ronan turned back around, he saw another wulver, slightly shorter and definitely skinnier than himself. All the wounds had carried over into his new shape, but what Ronan’s eyes caught on now were the hands -- capable-looking with long, elegant fingers.

He was staring. “I look that good, huh,” he snarled, in an attempt to cover the stare.

Adam shrugged one shoulder. “Nah, you still look like a werewolf caught mid-change. I needed hands, I don’t do human, and if anyone sees me here they won’t look twice.”

This last bit cemented Ronan’s suspicion about Adam’s ‘accident’. “Nobody comes here anyway. I go to town,” he said. Ronan took two good-sized fish from his basket, glanced at Adam, then decided to add a third fish. “You can clean these, if you know how,” he said, remembering Adam’s insistence on payment. “But don’t fucking butcher them if you don’t.”

Adam just nodded; he’d already started stacking wood for the fire. Ronan picked up his basket and left.

* * *

It was dark by the time Ronan got to town, not that it mattered; he had good night vision, but anyone could navigate to the pub by the warm light and raucous chatter spilling from within. He glanced through the windows at the packed front room, then went around to the back of the building and gave the kitchen door a sharp kick.

The door was immediately flung open by a thin pale man with pale blonde hair and dark circles under his eyes. “Czerny,” Ronan greeted. “Have you tried sleeping lately?” 

“I will if you will,” Noah replied cheerfully. He took the basket from Ronan and peered inside. “Well, less than I hoped for, but better than I expected,” was his verdict on the number of fish.

“I had to keep a couple extra,” Ronan said. “I have company, temporarily.”

Noah waggled his eyebrows. “You, having company? That sounds almost civilized.” 

Ronan shrugged and quickly glanced into the dining room; none of the patrons were paying their conversation any attention. Most people here were trustworthy, but it only took one who wasn’t. “Found an injured nuggle by the stream,” he told Noah in a low voice.

“Hmm,” was all Noah gave him in return. Quite possibly Noah had already got wind of Adam’s appearance somehow; Noah always knew more than he should. “Guess you need to take my first aid kit back with you?”

“Just some antiseptic, probably,” Ronan said. “I doubt he’d agree to bandages.”

Noah was already kneeling with his head inside one of the low cupboards. “You’re one to talk,” he said, muffled. “Any injuries that look especially bad?”

“Uh,” Ronan answered, as Noah extracted himself from the cupboard. “An ear that looks pretty shredded up, some blood coming from the inside too.”

Noah frowned. “Could be serious. I can come check it out tomorrow, if you think he’ll let me.”

“I’ll ask.” Ronan expected an argument, but he hoped he could win it. “He’ll want to pay you somehow.”

“Oh?” Noah raised his eyebrows. “Strange, but I guess I could send him to forage for something.”

Ronan gave him a curt nod. “Just plan on coming by tomorrow, then. I’ll let you know if he can’t be convinced.”

* * *

When Ronan got back to his cave Adam was still in wulver form, silhouetted by the fire, poking at something with a stick. Once he was closer, Ronan saw that the poking was to inch a thin, flat stone holding the fish fillets closer to the fire. “Hey, caveman,” Ronan said, “you know I have some actual human grill pans back there.”

Adam started. “I didn’t wanna poke through your stuff,” he said quietly. “But I don’t have much experience cooking, anyway. You should probably take over.”

Ronan pulled the antiseptic bottle and cotton swabs from his basket. “Okay,” he said, “I’ll take care of the food and you take care of your mess.”

Adam grimaced, but nodded and took the supplies into the cave. When he came back out, he handed Ronan a pair of plates and forks. “Figured you’d want these, since you’re so civilized,” he needled.

In the dim firelight, Adam looked almost uninjured. Almost. That ear was still a disaster. 

Ronan was staring again. He grabbed the plates and quickly transferred his gaze to the fish, putting the slightly larger fillets on the plate he handed back to Adam. Not looking up from his own plate, he said, “I have a friend who can look at your ear tomorrow, if that’s okay.” Glancing up to see the look on Adam’s face, he added, “he said you could pay him back.”

He’d misinterpreted Adam’s expression, Ronan quickly realized; it wasn’t frustration, but anger and terror. “Fuck you,” he hissed. “I trusted you not to tell anyone about me.”

“Shit,” Ronan replied, because what else was there to say. “I didn’t tell anyone other than Noah. I wouldn’t. And he can keep a secret better than anyone I know.”

“Better than you, I hope,” Adam snapped back. “I guess since he already knows, he might as well come.”

“Look,” Ronan said, scrambling to reassure Adam. “Noah owns the pub, so he hears about all the town goings-on. If someone’s asking about you, he’ll know. He could misdirect them.”

Adam gave him a wary look. “Or, he could direct them straight here. I just met  _ you _ a few hours ago, I’m not gonna trust your friends just because they’re your friends.”

“I don’t tell other people’s secrets” - Adam raised his eyebrows at this - “but I can tell you Noah understands not wanting to be found.”

Adam’s fear seemed to have mostly melted into skepticism. He gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Okay. I’m going to bed now.” He glanced into the cave, then out past the fire. “I can sleep out here, I guess.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Ronan said. “There’s plenty of room inside, and plenty of blankets.”

Adam shrugged again, but went inside. Ronan sat staring into the fire, mind racing. He thought maybe he and Noah could help Adam be safe here, if Adam could be convinced to stay. He thought maybe he could convince Adam to stay. He thought maybe wanting Adam to stay was at least partly selfishness. He thought until the fire had burned to embers and the night chill encroached, then finally went to bed himself.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I call this one the 'relationship speedrun' chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I see I said I would have this chapter up by....*checks notes* 4 or 5 days ago. That was optimistic of me. Anyway, here it is!

The meeting between Adam and Noah went as well as Ronan could’ve hoped. Adam had shifted back to his Shetland pony form, and Noah was a wizard with skittish horses. Not that Adam was a horse, but he did seem more comfortable in that form; not really surprising, since he’d surely spent more time as a horse than as a wulver. 

Adam wasn’t all that skittish, either, after his initial introduction to Noah. He seemed to judge Noah trustworthy. Which was a relief; Ronan wasn’t sure  _ he _ could trust someone who didn’t trust Noah. 

“You can’t hear much from this ear, can you?” Noah asked softly, after he’d finished inspecting the ear and bandaging it as well as it could be bandaged.

Adam pawed the ground; Ronan had quickly come to recognize this as something of a nervous tic. “Can’t hear anything,” he admitted. “Felt like I was swimming kinda sideways on the way here.” 

Noah sighed. “I don’t think there’s anything I can do about that,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t expect--” Adam shook his head. “You’ve already done more than I expected. Let me know when I can do that foraging for you.”

“Not for at least a week,” Noah said firmly. “I know none of your injuries actually stop you from moving, but you’ll heal faster if you rest.”

Adam snorted in frustration. Ronan spoke up before he could formulate an argument. “I have plenty you can help with close to the cave, so you won’t have to travel far,” he offered. 

This was stretching the truth a bit. Ronan himself had plenty of free time in the average day, so splitting the work with another person would theoretically result in more free time for them both. Ronan, for one, would be happy with this, but he suspected Adam would get restless. 

The first two days tested them both. Noah had sternly suggested -- well, as sternly as Noah could, which wasn’t very -- that Adam stay near the cave for at least that long. Since Ronan still needed to go on his daily treks to the shore to fish and to town to distribute his catch, Adam had long stretches of time alone at the cave.

On the first day, this resulted in an argument about how far Adam  _ really _ needed to go to collect firewood and how much spring cleaning Ronan  _ hadn’t _ expected him to do in the cave. The result of this argument was that Ronan retrieved some books from Noah so that Adam had a way to entertain himself the next day.

The second day started out better. Adam, in wulver form, was sprawled on a large rock by the stream reading one of Noah’s books when Ronan left to fish. The fish all but flopped into Ronan’s basket that day, so he headed home early. 

He found Adam prowling the streamside for firewood again, despite yesterday’s agreement. Or, well, Ronan had thought it was an agreement. Adam seemed to think of it as a suggestion. “Could  _ you _ stay still all day?” He bit out, after Ronan voiced his displeasure.

“You didn’t need to walk this far downstream,  _ Jesus. _ I thought you were trying to stay hidden anyway!” Ronan wasn’t shouting, but he was putting a lot of effort into not shouting. Likewise, he could see Adam putting a lot of effort into not flinching.

“You think it’s weird that I want to pay you for things,” Adam spat, “but see! This is what happens! If I can’t pay, you start thinking you can tell me what to do.”

“Fuck,” Ronan snarled, “is that what you think of me? I wasn’t gonna force you to do anything. I care about you getting better, and about you not being found. But fuck me for assuming  _ you _ care about those things, I guess.”

Ronan had become an astute observer of Adam’s emotions over the past few days, but the ones flickering across his face now he couldn’t identify. Maybe this time he had pushed too far. Then Adam spoke, much quieter. “Umm,” he said. “Maybe you’re right. I’ve never had the luxury of caring about those things before.”

It took all Ronan’s self-control not to point out that caring about your health shouldn’t be a luxury,  _ what the fuck _ . Instead, he asked, “you care about them now, though?”

Adam gave him a shaky, humorless chuckle. “Yeah. I guess I will.”

Carefully, Ronan pushed further. “Can I care? Can Noah?”

“Yeah.” Adam said. “Uhh. I’ll try not to snap at you about it.”

“Leave Noah alone, but you can snap at me all you want,” Ronan offered. They had reached the cave now, and Adam stood by the entrance, all fight drained out; shoulders slumped, head down. “Do you wanna be alone for a bit?” Ronan asked.

Adam nodded. Ronan left.

* * *

Dinner that evening was a quiet affair. Ronan didn’t think Adam was still pissed at him, he was just...quiet. Adam went to bed almost as soon as they’d finished cleaning up dinner. Ronan spent another long night staring into the fire before he finally made it to his own bed.

Adam was gone when Ronan woke the next morning. He groaned quietly to himself before he noticed the pony standing by the stream, watching the water rush by. He pulled his trousers on and went out.

He was already noticeably healthier than three days ago, Ronan noted as he came closer. It would be some time yet before Adam looked anything close to well-fed, but his smaller cuts and bruises were fading and his coat looked more lustrous.

“Stop thinking so hard. You’re making  _ my _ brain hurt,” Ronan said as he drew level to Adam.

Adam turned his head and gently bumped Ronan’s shoulder with his nose. He gazed at the stream a while longer before replying. “I was just thinking,” he said wistfully. “I’ll be sorry to leave here.”

“You don’t have to.”

“This town ain’t big enough for the both of us, pardner,” Adam said, in a woefully bad imitation of an American accent.

“That is  _ awful _ ,” Ronan said gleefully. “Where did you learn that?”

“From an American tourist I dumped in a lake,” Adam replied, tossing his head playfully. “He yelled that at me as I swam off.”

“Needs work,” Ronan told him. More earnestly, he added, “But you really can stay here. I like having you here.”

Adam sidestepped away from Ronan and back. He tossed his head again, anxiously this time. “But maybe you like it because it’s novel,” he suggested finally. “What happens when you get tired of me?”

“Then shapeshift to, I don’t know, ocean-going Nessie or something. Bam, novelty.”

“That  _ would _ be novel,” Adam agreed dryly. “But I don’t think you’d appreciate having some pleistosaurian creature taking up all the space in your cave.”

Ronan shrugged. “I’m not going to get tired of you. But I’m not expecting you to just stay here. There’s a stream and the ocean and a lake.” He pointed in the direction of each as he said it. “You can stay, then go, then come back. Wash, rinse, repeat.”

“Stay and go and come back.” Adam moved so he could rest his head over Ronan’s shoulder. “I think that covers all the options.”

“Yep.” Cautiously, Ronan raised a hand and placed it on Adam’s muzzle. “You can have all of them.”

“Okay.” Adam backed up a few steps before turning and walking back to the cave.

Ronan stayed, watching him. Their conversation had left him somewhat confounded. Had convincing Adam to stay really been just that easy?

Adam came out of the cave in wulver-form a few minutes later. “Think I can come to the beach with you today?” he asked.

Ronan gave him a look. “Do  _ you _ think you can come to the beach? According to Noah, you should take it easy for at least a couple more days.”

“I can take it easy on a walk,” Adam protested. He leaned his shoulder against Ronan’s. Ronan instinctively wrapped his arm around Adam’s waist to anchor them both more securely. He started to pull away once he realized what he’d done, but Adam had already leaned more firmly into him and wrapped his own arm around Ronan.

“Anyway,” Adam continued, “worst case scenario, you have to carry me back home.”

Ronan had not hoped for this, because hope meant you could be disappointed. But even he couldn’t argue that this was anything other than blatant flirting. “That doesn’t sound so bad,” he said, shifting so he could press his temple against Adam’s.

“No,” Adam agreed. “It doesn’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHAT is up with Adam's awful cowboy accent? Yeah, I don't know either, but I left it in anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> Wulvers: a bit like werewolves, they have the body of a man with the head of a wolf and are covered in fur. Unlike werewolves, they're not shapeshifters and they aren't usually feared. They seem to be generally on good terms with humans and there are stories of them leaving fish for hungry families.
> 
> Nuggles: a lot like kelpies, they're shapeshifting water sprites that prefer to take the form of a horse. While kelpies try to drown humans, nuggles are less malicious and mostly stick to mischievous pranks. They also don't shapeshift to human form.


End file.
